Confessions of a Bondi Blonde

Is this the end of the world, as we know it?

The trains don’t work; our Premier reportedly is a jerk. Our financial future seems calamitous, economic uncertainty is now part of us.

But.

 Look up and see the deep violet jacaranda flowers against the crackling azure of another perfect Sydney day. Walk our beautiful tree lined streets at the near dawn or dusk and be bewitched by the heady perfume of star jasmine, hanging fat and heavy from a neighbour’s fence.

I love reading The Herald with my first coffee of the day, being informed as the synapses snap together. But at the moment it is like immersing yourself in the shrouds of obituary columns as consumer confidence dies, leeching optimism from the economy and from our society. Apart from the nascent promise from President-elect Obama, it seems from the news that although it’s not as bad as it can get, that’s only because it is only going to get worse.  The planet is very sick and we are killing each other ruthlessly and effectively in many places on it. Our previous safe harbours of certainty, including the seemingly strong and regulated financial systems, seem as precarious as if we had ignored the wise men all along, building our houses on the sand rather than the rock. Is it all coming tumbling down?  With foreboding and foreclosures, we wish we had been forewarned so we could have been forearmed.

It’s November and it is not at all beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Small businesses are holding on, extending their trading terms and waiting for their clients to get paid, so they can get paid. Big businesses and business leaders are admitting “mea culpa”, crossing their fingers, scratching their heads and planning on the hop. Politicians are as inspiring and reassuring as a Bundaberg Base Hospital doctor.

But it is still a beautiful day. At 8:00 a.m. I was with my children at Bronte beach. We frolicked among the waves and acted like banshees, chasing seagulls and throwing wet sand. We then moved to a local cafe, quickly hoovering down crunchy Turkish toast laden with butter, Vegemite and thick fruit jam. I was rich with the wonder of family life. My kids go to their dad every second weekend and this before-school ritual has become part of our family folklore to carry forward. 

And although it is true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, surely gloom can be as much as a personal decision too? So if you are waiting for a train that will be late, crowded, old and tired to go home to a house that’s hard to pay for, try to think of the nice smile you got from the ticket man or the prettiness of the balloon being held by the little girl, coming home from a birthday party or a visit to her grandparents house.

And if the news today is getting you down, throw aside your paper. Take the hand or the arm of your lover, your child, your parent, your friend and walk our perfumed streets. Count your own blessings and those we all share: being alive, living in a lovely place no matter how bad the transport or silly our cockatoo pollies, being free to walk free of persecution or segregation. And no matter how gloomy the outlook in our news, remember we’ve got it so much better than almost everyone else.

It is a beautiful day. Isn’t that enough – just for now?

 

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